


our corner of the universe.

by commonemergency



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, M/M, dan has a lot of questions, dan has a lot of thoughts, discussion about the universe, no big angst or anything, phil is comforting, talking through anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 19:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12217623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commonemergency/pseuds/commonemergency
Summary: “Have comfort in knowing that you are part of the universe, and that the universe is in you.” Phil didn’t have to explain why or how, Dan had already knew.Or the one where Dan feels small and Phil comforts him.





	our corner of the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> this comes from so many intrusive thoughts about the universe. i couldn't sleep until i vented it somehow. so this is the end product, thanks to neil degrasse tyson for being a source of comfort. 
> 
> this fic is set circa 2012, getting used to London (mainly because I wanted London to be the location)

Dan had his hands shoved in his pockets because he had forgotten to bring his gloves, though it was much warmer in London than in Manchester. He had thought that it was quite cold and crisp night tonight walking along the thames from a dinner at Wagamama’s, he should have prepared. It was a long day, though he didn’t really do anything but _think_ , spending a lot of time in his head. Sometimes that explained everything. He’d spend all day in his room, staring at the ceiling until he forced himself to get up and be productive. He could have written a script for a video, maybe gotten all of the pent up angst that he was feeling out, but then it would have turned out into a waffling mess, and he’d worry about the comments, maybe people would think it was dumb- and then he’d be back to where he started. Sitting. Thinking. There are times when that thinking too much would slowly shift into a space where he wasn’t thinking about anything- information wouldn’t be kept in his messy brain, he couldn’t tell you what he thought because it wouldn’t stick. It was one of those days. 

It had been a quiet dinner, too. Phil didn’t want to make dinner and Dan didn’t want to attempt to go near a stove while he was a bit dazed about a problem he couldn’t distinguish yet. 

He just felt small sometimes. 

They pass by an unofficial skatepark filled with graffiti, Dan thinks of all the time people spent creating their artwork on a slab of cement, overlapping each other, maybe it was their shout in the void, or maybe they were bored -- it had always amazed him what causes people to make such beautiful things. Teenagers sat, some skated, it wasn’t that late, but late enough for parents to wonder where their child has gone, and if they were coming back. 

“My hands are bloody freezing,” Dan’s voice had sounded strained, he had cleared his throat, looking at Phil who had smiled at him, shaking his head. 

“I told you it’d be cold,” Phil had taken one of his gloves off and handed it to Dan. “There, we can share,” 

Dan had grabbed the glove and had put it on his hand, shoving both of them back in his pockets. They had a lot of meetings with the BBC, there were things that needed to be done later tonight to prepare, but Dan kind of just wanted to either sleep or listen to music and not think about anything. He couldn’t decide. Sometimes the anxiety just kept him up all night, thinking of everything that could go wrong. His mental health had been getting to a point where he slept in too late, and his bones ached because of it, going out tonight was the first time in a while and it was because he needed food, and Phil had made him. 

Dan had watched as a couple walked past them, hand in hand and then suggested sitting on a bench. They had gotten their phone out to take pictures, though it was dark and even with flash you could hardly get a good enough picture of the thames, although the sitting part was something he wanted to do. He didn’t want to go home, and there wasn’t a crowd of people, if any people other than a few, and he had so many thoughts he wanted to get out but didn’t know how--

“Want to just, uh, stop here for a bit?” Dan had said immediately after the thought, not giving himself time to really think about it. 

Phil had looked at him curiously before shrugging his shoulders. “Sure?” A lot of the time Dan had just said things, and a lot of the time Phil went with it. Dan was unpredictable sometimes, at least lately. They weren’t really fighting so much anymore, the dust had settled and he was just glad to get these small glimpses of Dan back from whatever talons that had grabbed him in his sleep and held him hostage. 

His ass felt the immediate coldness from sitting down, eventually he’d get used to it, though it was uncomfortable. He wished he had a hot drink. 

They sat there, staring at the thames, and listening to the sounds around them; an ambulance wading through a sea of traffic, laughter in the distance from people coming in and out of bars, teenagers on skateboards and bikes, a couple laughing about their first few months of dating, Dan and Phil’s only noise was breathing, yet it spoke volumes. 

“Are you okay?” Phil turns his head slightly to stare at Dan. 

Dan had to think about that once, and then again. 

“I think so.” He says, chewing on his lower lip, and then taking another small breath. “It’s a funny thing. I don’t want to go home, and I don’t particularly like being in the cold, but there’s nowhere else to go, and I don’t want to talk to anybody else, or see anybody else, and I have all of these thoughts but I don’t know how to articulate them or express them to where they make sense and--” he takes another deep breath, “it just feels…. Uncomfortable.” _I’m uncomfortable,_ he thinks. He was uncomfortable with his thoughts, and how they could spiral into this perpetual void of immense darkness, and the only way to get out of it was by extreme force, and he felt like he was clawing out of his skin, everything seemed so flimsy sometimes. 

Dan had pointed his face up towards the sky, like it’d give him some kind of answer. Instead his eye had fixated on a bright star, which was kind of amazing given that it was hard to see the stars in London. If there was something he missed about Wokingham, it was being able to go out on a green pasture and look up at the stars. He used to do it all the time with his friends, they’d all be a little bit inebriated but they could all look up and admire the sky for what it’s worth and wishing to be somewhere else. Now that Dan was somewhere else he felt homesick, but that homesick feeling wasn’t for anywhere particular. 

“I just learned that not all the stars we see up in the sky are dead like those shitty ‘facts only’ twitters make you to believe,” Perhaps Phil already knew this, but Dan hadn’t. “Our nearest star is four thousand light years away. Still in our galaxy, still existing, but also still in the past- and that’s a lot to think about,” 

Dan had reached a finger up as if to touch the sky. When he was a kid his mum used to tell him that if he really wanted to he could block the moon, and it made him feel a little bit powerful and a little less small, if he just stuck his finger over it. He still did that from time to time. 

“Stars are born and they live, and then they die. They don’t always explode, sometimes they just fade away, and it’s just a lot to think about- how mortal they are,” _like us,_ he thought. 

Phil nodded his head now and then smiled softly at Dan. “Did you watch a documentary too?” He tilted his head a little to Dan and Dan had looked down and smiled a little. He did, actually. He watched a couple. 

“I knew it. Whenever you get into something you go above and beyond when it comes to research,” Phil chuckles, looking up himself to look at the stars. It was impossible to know which star Dan was looking at but he had found his own bright star, doing as Dan dad with his thumb, except Phil didn’t mind feeling small. He was small, the universe and the galaxy they were in, and the galaxies surrounding them were big. 

“It’s okay to be and feel small, Dan,” 

Dan had a hard time with that, a lot of his life he had felt defenseless of his thoughts, the things that scared him, the things that made him lay awake at night, not having the answers to the questions he wondered, or if he had a sense of purpose, and what was the purpose? Did it matter having a sense of purpose if they were just going to die? What was out there? _Was there anything out there?_

“Yeah,” Dan said, his voice was distant. “I always think of how big our galaxy is, and how it’s not the only galaxy to exist. I think a lot about if we are the only planet with inhabitants living on it- because if so, _god_ , that’s so fucking lonely, isn’t it?” 

Phil was piecing together what he had always been piecing together in the big puzzle and mystery that was Dan Howell: he just needed someone to listen to him. The boy had so many thoughts that went at him at once, and no one to talk to because he was afraid. Phil didn’t know what he was exactly afraid of, but he was afraid. 

“As scary as robotics and artificial intelligence is, it could be useful, you know? We have- years and years to go when it comes to progress with it, but one day, we’ll have robots, and maybe they’ll outlive us and be able to survive without us, maybe they’ll be able to go to those places that we can’t, and they’ll be our explorers. Of course, you and I _will_ be dead when this happens. Who knows if future children will be alive when it finally does progress for things like that to happen -- but… if the planet inevitably collapses and fails, and all that's left are just the ruins of what we used to be -- and _if_ , someone- _whoever_ is out there does come, and they ask, Who were we? What were we like? We’d have these robots that we built and named to speak for us, and tell them, hello, and that once upon a time we existed, and that we tried.” Phil was out of breath from his explanation but he thought he got his point across. 

“That’s both comforting and depressing,” Dan chimed, but a part of that ache in his chest had eased just a little bit. 

“Not everything has to make sense, and not everything needs an answer.” Phil said, quoting his mother when he himself had gone through a lot of angst and wonder about the universe and how big it was and how small he felt. Deep down there was knowing that it wasn’t just this one thing for Dan that was bothering him, in a way the discussion was venting about underlying problems that he needed to deal with, but at least he was _talking_ about it.

“I hate when you say that to me,” Dan mutters, this not being the first time Phil’s said it. 

“It’s not what you want to hear, but it’s true, you just make yourself stir crazy but in your mind and in the four walls of your room,” Phil said gently, reaching out to Dan’s ungloved hand and holding it. The action was risky, Dan hadn’t bothered to move his fingers, they were so cold and Phil’s hand always had fit perfectly in his and was so warm. Then again, Phil had that way about him. Whenever dan felt so cold, whether that was figuratively or physically, Phil had been that constant warmth about him that touched him in ways that Phil wouldn’t even know. 

“Have comfort in knowing that you are part of the universe, and that the universe is in you.” Phil didn’t have to explain why or how, Dan had already knew. 

There was silence between them, but this time, it was comfortable. It was contemplative and thoughtful. It felt normal. 

Eventually Dan had gotten up and was ready to go home if Phil was. They had made their way to Waterloo & Bridge station to go home. 

Dan and Phil had made it home thirty minutes later, as Phil was unlocking the door Dan had spoken up, “Thanks for listening to me, Phil.” Dan had a twitch of a smile, which had grown seeing the first rain drop fall right on the tip of Phil’s noise. The stars were gone and there were the rain clouds that filled the night sky. 

“I’ll always listen to you, even if I don’t understand it all the time, I’m willing to try.” 

Dan sometimes felt like he was a flower, learning the art of opening up and letting go. He was trying too, and that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope that my thoughts made sense, i always think they do, but to quote my mom, "you vent weird," hopefully it was still enjoyable regardless! 
> 
> comments/kudos appreciated! 
> 
> talk to me on tumblr/twitter: @nihilismdan.


End file.
